Exclusive privileges for fans
Jiang Songhe and Ni Haolang arranged to meet at Ni Haolang's studio at 5 p.m. that day. After hanging up the phone, he explained the situation to the Guiman Hotel and applied for a temporary room card. Just in case, he also carried a photocopy of his passport with him.
The drive from the hotel to Ni Haolang's studio takes about 40 minutes. Jiang Songhe rang the doorbell of a small garden villa at exactly five o'clock.
Ni Haolang's studio is in the suburbs. In his words, money should be spent wisely. Rather than spending a lot of money on rent in a prime location and wasting it, he prefers to save it for a life of pleasure and can even hear girls calling him "Daddy."
"Just come in, Song He!" The wrought iron gate popped open automatically, and Ni Haolang shouted into the intercom before going silent.
Jiang Songhe entered the house and walked through the small front garden. He immediately saw the main building surrounded by several coconut trees. It had white walls, a golden roof, and flying eaves with glazed tiles. The porcelain-style building was decorated with Siamese color scheme. He raised his eyebrows and pushed open the gilded carved and hollowed-out door to enter the villa.
Ni Haolang was busy with something somewhere and didn't come out to greet Jiang Songhe as she went inside. Jiang Songhe found it hard to reconcile this strange, neither-here-nor-there style with the bad-talking friend she remembered. Seeing him stop at the entrance, she called out as if to make sure she hadn't come to the wrong place, "Ni Haolang?"
"Hey, I'm here!" came a reply from upstairs. A moment later, a pair of Nepalese slippers came down the stairs. Ni Haolang pouted and looked down. "Why don't you come in and sit down? What are you standing at the door for?"
For some reason, this scene gave Jiang Songhe the feeling of watching monkeys in a gilded cage.
Despite his usual sharp tongue and carefree nature, Ni Haolang noticed something was off about Jiang Songhe the moment he got closer. He quickly led her to the living room, pouring her tea while asking, "Songhe, why do you look so pale? What happened last night?"
"I had a few drinks and caught a bit of a cold on the way back." Jiang Songhe unintentionally said "a bit" several times, as if giving himself a psychological suggestion, "I'm fine."
"Oh, I was thinking, you weren't drained dry by that handsome guy, were you?" Mentioning this, Ni Haolang slapped his thigh. "Yeah, why didn't you bring him along..."
"What happened to your neck?" Jiang Songhe interrupted the spell.
Ni Haolang scratched the teeth marks around his neck that had almost faded, then covered them and replied, "My dog roommate chewed on them."
Jiang Songhe unconsciously thought of the red marks around someone's neck, caused by him strangling them, and was secretly startled. He immediately cleared his mind, picked up his teacup, took a sip, and casually asked, "You have a roommate?"
“Kun Ji’en, whom I told you about, well! He’s not really a roommate.” Ni Haolang suddenly got up and walked to the easel by the window, stealthily hiding a palette with a patina on it behind the canvas. “When we were collaborating, he would stay at my place for a while for convenience.”
Ni Haolang unintentionally uttered "jiu" several times.
Ignoring the few cigarette butts stuck in the dried paint on the canvas that she had vaguely glimpsed, Jiang Songhe prepared to get to the point: "Didn't you say it was a three-person game? Where are the others?"
“Hey, this guy keeps telling me he’s on his way and not to rush me. I don’t know what he has that I have to go back to get.” Ni Haolang sat back down on the low stool opposite Jiang Songhe. “Man’er’s group is all laid-back and has no sense of time. Don’t mind them, brother.”
Before everyone was present, the conversation failed to get to the point, so Jiang Songhe, unusually, took the initiative to speak, initiating an awkward chat.
"It's nothing, I was just worried about not being able to get a taxi back." Jiang Songhe picked up his teacup again and blew on it. "What day is it today? Why were the streets so empty around midnight?"
Ni Haolang kicked a few crooked empty wine cans under the coffee table back in: "Today? Oh, today is Manmian Day."
"Sleep...day?" Jiang Songhe asked, putting down her teacup.
“Yes, it’s December 31st! Every year before dawn, we have to go back to bed or meditate. There are a lot of artists here, so Manersi celebrates this festival to praise the Goddess of Inspiration. In short, it’s about resting well on the last day of the year, gathering up our energy, and asking her to bless us so that the fountain of inspiration will flow endlessly in the new year,” Ni Haolang explained with great interest.
"Wow, that's pretty mysterious." Jiang Songhe smiled bitterly to himself, "This God of Intuition is really... protective of his own and xenophobic."
"Isn't that interesting? Manr has two great specialties: the artists who are always there and the festivals that come and go!"
Ni Haolang stopped gesturing wildly and changed the subject: "If you ask me, our brother is already an adult and has the makings of a champion, why don't we stay in Maner and develop our careers there? As for you, it would be perfect for you and your brother to rekindle our friendship and live a carefree life together~~~~"
Jiang Songhe's purpose for this trip was completely opposite, so he naturally disagreed. Before he could speak, a sexy, husky voice suddenly interrupted.
"What?! 'Rekindling the old flame'?!"
The two looked up at the sound and stared in the direction of the sound.
The man with the "sexy husky voice" clutched a bottle of liquor and asked with a forced smile, "What, 'carefree,' 'remaining,' 'life'?"
-
Jiang Songyun, who was waiting for an unknown "surprise" in the rest area outside the practice room, was also a little confused when Vasin picked him up.
Having met him briefly before, Kang Song-yoon roughly knew that Wasin Heng was a security guard or similar staff member at TANG.
The two tried to communicate along the way, but due to the language barrier, after a series of nonsensical exchanges, he still had no idea where they were going or what they were going to do. He had no choice but to bite the bullet and follow the big guy all the way up to the upper floors of the building.
Wasin led Kang Song-yoon to a room on the seventeenth floor with a "RECORDING" sign lit up on the door.
"Here." Vasin knocked on the door a few times, and when he heard a response from inside, he opened the door and let Jiang Songyun in first.
A large screen on the wall near the entrance of the recording studio is projecting live footage from the two recording rooms inside.
The smaller room was empty, with only an ambient light on, barely illuminating the microphone stand; the larger room was filled with various musical instruments, and a silver-haired figure was sitting behind a drum set, striking the drumheads while talking to the side of the screen.
"OK, the sound is fine." Hearing the control room door open, the arranger quickly turned around to glance at the person who came in, and pressed the intercom button. "Janus, the person you asked for has arrived."
Jonathan came out of the large recording studio and greeted Jiang Songyun with a smile: "Hey, Songyun, were you surprised that I suddenly called you over?"
Suddenly face to face with his idol, Jiang Songyun froze, his eyes darting around as he scrutinized Jonathan's outfit—a turtleneck paired with a black off-the-shoulder suit—his messy hairstyle, and then his bare feet, leaving him even more bewildered.
"It's only been a few days, and you don't recognize me anymore?" Jonathan ruffled Jiang Songyun's hair and leaned against the empty corner of the mixing console.
Jiang Songyun realized his rudeness and awkwardly called him "Janus." Seeing that the arranger was not the idol's go-to person in the news photo, he followed the rules of the Chinese film and television industry and simply called him "teacher."
In the entertainment industry, it's rare to see people using the honorific title "teacher." Artists address each other by their given names without regard to seniority.
Jonathan thought Jiang Songyun was calling him. He chuckled as he imagined an adult version of the boy's upright manner. He felt a ticklish urge to take advantage of the situation by addressing him: "Why are you being so formal? Just call me... Brother Jonathan."
Then, winking, she added, "This is a special fan privilege for Song Yun~"
Jiang Songyun blushed: "Is it...appropriate?"
“Of course.” Jonathan laughed heartily and turned to introduce the person to the arranger, “Adam, Song Yun’s specialty is the drums, and he plays them really well. I believe he can do it, so why go to the trouble of looking elsewhere?”
Arranger: "Cool, since Janus has given his approval, I'm going to set my standards to the highest level."
Jiang Songyun was filled with the thought, "Janus actually remembers what I said." The feeling of being praised by his idol made him dizzy and lightheaded. When he came to his senses, he was already sitting in front of a drum set.
What are they here for? Why the sudden drumming? I'm still completely clueless.
"Let's start with a freestyle performance. Anything you like is fine." Jonathan crossed his arms and walked to the vacuum glass. Seeing that Jiang Songyun had already picked up the drumsticks, he couldn't hide his admiration and curiosity.
Almost instinctively, the drumsticks adhered to Jiang Songyun's fingers, twirled a few times, and were then precisely grasped. After a few light taps on the snare drum, several heavy blows were delivered in turn to the tambourine and several tom-toms.
*Snap! Thump! Thump! Snap—*
Jonathan and the arranger exchanged a smile: "Told ya." (I wasn't wrong.)
Jiang Songyun waved his arms, his drumming faster and more determined, the rousing beats forming a high-energy rhythm, the sonic waves almost lifting the roof off. Excitement and confidence filled his chest, until he glanced out the window—
Jonathan was looking at him with a pleased expression.
*Snap!* Rolling around.
The drumstick slipped from my hand.
"It's okay, Songyun, pick it up and keep going." Jonathan knocked on the window.
Jiang Songyun ignored Jonathan's reminder and did not take any further action.
"Did he not sleep well during the day and his inspiration dried up? Time is limited, otherwise I should..." the arranger thought worriedly, "Plan B."
“Adam, you should go and rest too,” Jonathan said, turning off the radio. “Give him some time.”
Jonathan handed a bottle of water to Kang Song-yoon, who absentmindedly took it and drank most of it.
"Thinking of your brother, huh?" Jonathan's fingertip gently traced the circular patterns on the pendant.
"How did you know?" Jiang Songyun looked up in disbelief, as if his secret had been exposed.
Jonah pointed mysteriously to his forehead and said, "Intuition."
“Oh right, about last time…” the boy’s lips curved into an unnatural smile, “about what happened last time… don’t mind it, Naxi-ge.”
"I'm not that petty. But losing control at work isn't a good thing, you know. Want to talk to me about it?" Jonathan coaxed.
Jiang Songyun took another sip of water and revealed the reason without reservation: "When you looked at me, I don't know why I thought of my brother. I've been learning drums for eight years, and the way you were just now reminded me of how he accompanied me to class."
“That’s nice…” Jonathan smiled slightly and asked with concern, “Then why didn’t he come with you today?”
“He…” Jiang Songyun hesitated, “...seems to be sick.”
"Sick?!" Jonathan's voice suddenly rose in volume, startling Jiang Songyun, but he quickly regained his composure and continued, "I mean, we only met a few days ago, and winter in Man'er isn't as cold as in Jingting, so how could you be sick?"
"I went to his room before I left... I went to his room to look for him, but I couldn't wake him up no matter what I did. I initially thought it was because he drank too much at a business dinner yesterday, but now that I think about it, he didn't wear a coat when he came back last night, and he was sleeping very soundly, with his eyebrows furrowed the whole time..."
"Socializing?" Jonathan laughed as if he had thought of something amusing. "Sorry my bad...you actually still care about your brother, don't you?"
Praising the boy for being considerate unexpectedly made him angry.
"I don't care about him at all! He didn't get sick because of me..." Despite saying that, Jiang Songyun was unconsciously rubbing a room key in his hand, which looked like a hotel-specific design.
Jonah lowered his eyes thoughtfully and smiled faintly, thinking, "It's not because of you, it's most likely because of me."
"Brother Naxi, do you also encounter this situation as a singer?" Jiang Songyun asked, whether genuinely seeking advice or trying to change the subject. "My mind is so chaotic right now, I can't calm down at all."
Jonathan grasped Jiang Songyun's wrist, placing the hand that held the room key against his chest, then withdrew it in the same motion, guiding him: "Try thinking about something that makes you feel at ease, take a deep breath, and immerse yourself in the details, like this, inhale—exhale—"
Jiang Songyun casually placed the room card on the drumhead in front of him, then devoutly followed Jonathan's instructions with his eyes closed: "Inhale—exhale—"
Jonathan opened one eye to peek and asked, "What are you thinking about?"
Jiang Songyun's expression gradually calmed down, and the corners of his mouth unconsciously curled up: "I was thinking about the ceiling in my eyes when I was a baby, that person was tone-deaf, and still sang lullabies to me..."
Jonathan closed his eyes as well, listening to Jiang Songyun's murmurs, and seemed to hear a familiar yet unfamiliar humming in his ears.
Long, long ago, his mother would sing to him to lull him to sleep. He remembered her beautiful voice, like the sound of a clear spring flowing. Her favorite song to sing to him was "Amazing Grace"...
"Wow, it really works! Nasi, you're amazing!"
Interrupted by Jiang Songyun, Jonathan's eyebrows twitched slightly, but her long eyelashes remained frozen as if glued shut.
"Naxi, what are you usually thinking about at this time?" Jiang Songyun gently touched Jonathan's arm.
“Me…” Jonathan opened his eyes, “Heh, the things I think about are generally not suitable to be told to children.”
Knock knock.
Perhaps the two had been "meditating" for too long, because the arranger tapped the vacuum glass twice to remind them.
"Songyun, are you ready?" Jonathan put the drumsticks back into Jiang Songyun's palm.
"Ready to go!"
...
The arranger pushes the slider on the mixing console, and the music prelude begins.
Jiang Songhe listened intently to the emotions, and tapped the drumhead lightly in rhythm with his hands, sometimes fast and sometimes slow.
Arranger: "Very good, the next pause is before the climax. I want you to give me a tom-tom, like a heavy breath..."
Jiang Songyun struck the drum hard once, then struck it twice neatly on the ring, followed by a few softer beats of the snare drum.
Arranger: "Climax—give me that unbelievable fury again, that's right... I want anger! Nono! Listen carefully to the music, haven't you ever been angry? Again! Harder! Cool—here, human reason is struggling to recover, yes, this string of shimmering gongs is good..."
Jiang Songyun gradually got into the swing of things and figured out the key to catering to the arranger's guidance.
Jonathan was quite satisfied with the harmonious atmosphere before him. After whispering a few words to the arranger, he quietly left the recording studio.
Once outside, Jonathan pulled a hotel room key from his jeans pocket. The key had gold lettering on it: Rosewood Hotel, Room 512.
“Wasin, take me here.” He tossed the car keys to Wasin, who was following behind him. “It’s time to find my other half, my muse.”
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